Words of a Child
by richfamous
Summary: Diane meets a young girl on a train who gives her something to think about concerning her relationship with her husband. Just a one-shot that my tired mind came up with early in the morning.


Words of a Child

Diane didn't usually take the train out of town. But today she had taken one look at the traffic on the streets and instantaneously changed her mind. It was as though the enter population of Illinois had decided that they would all go out of town at exactly the same time and by exactly the same route. That was how she ended up taking the train out of town.

It had been ages since she had taken any form of public transport other than a cab and she was rather unused to the pushing and shoving involved. Good thing she'd stuck to reasonably short heels or, as Kurt had lovingly nicknamed them, 'little killers', she'd have fallen over at least four times on the way on. And that would not have done.

When she finally got into the carriage she found it packed full. With a sigh she consigned herself to gripping onto a pole and staring out of the windows at the passing countryside.

A small bark caught her attention and, turning, she saw the cutest dog she had ever seen (apart from Justice of course) sitting on a seat staring up at her with adorable chocolate brown eyes. It was a baby collie, with its half drooped ears and fluffy ruff making it twice as adorable. It grinned up at her, panting slightly for no apparent reason.

"Well somebody's looking very happy with himself," she said with a smile, just loud enough for the dog to hear.

It was also apparently loud enough for the girl sitting next to the dog to hear. She glanced up and saw Diane standing there for the first time. Instantly a flash of recognition came across the girl's face and she turned to the dog saying, "Sorry, Pippin, but the nice lady needs a seat and you're sitting on it."

Diane opened her mouth to protest and tell the girl that it was alright and to let her dog keep the seat, but before she knew it the dog had been picked up and seated on his mistress's knee and the girl was wiping down the seat saying, "Hope you're not allergic to dogs or anything. Go on, sit down!"

"Thank you," Diane said, making sure to smile at the girl. She sat down and crossed her legs and pretended to be staring out of the window again. But she was actually figuring out the girl sitting next to her.

She looked to be in her early teens, with lanky legs covered by some rather battered looking jeans and a plaid shirt on that instantly reminded her of Kurt. Except that his shirts tended to actually fit him. This girl looked like she'd raided her older brother's closet. Her hair, which couldn't quite decide whether it was flaming ginger or blonde, was cut in a dishevelled looking bob.

A nervous clearing of the throat from the girl made her turn fully in her direction. The girl was fiddling with her hands, she realised, and her mouth kept opening and closing as though she was trying to say something but couldn't quite get the guts up to say it.

Finally she said, "Diane Lockhart isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," she said, wondering how a young teen would know her name, let alone be able to put a face to her name. "Why?"

The girl bit her lip, stroking the dog a while before saying, "I've um seen you around town. I mean," – she took a deep breath, as though committing herself to something – "I saw you and your husband at the auditorium after his speech on ballistics."

Diane stared at her for a second before managing, "And what was a girl of your age doing at a speech about ballistics?"

The girl shrugged, a slight, proud smile coming over her face. "My dad's in the police force. And I think he wants me to take a step up."

"What's the next step up?" Diane asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

The girl's grin widened. "Ninja, apparently. Still, back to the fact that I had to go through the trauma of seeing two _adults_ kiss each other." She paused again, seeming to gear herself up for something. "Look here. I don't claim to know a load about romance or … sex or any of that other weird stuff people your age do. The only boyfriend I had was when I was six and we only kissed once. I'm only speaking based on what I think's right based on what know. So if you want to ignore me … that's fine. Is that OK?"

Diane blinked at her. The fact was, she hadn't a clue. She was about to get a lecture on a very sore subject for her, from a young girl who probably hadn't a clue what she was talking about. But then there was the fact that she herself hadn't a clue what she was doing or what she planned to do. And the girl seemed sincere. It couldn't do any harm to listen to what she had to say. So she said, "Say what you have to say. I'll listen."

"Alright," said the girl, apparently relieved. "First of all … I was there at the trial last year when they made your husband … spill the beans. Once more, it was because of my dad. He brought me and my older brothers along. I saw everything. I saw you leave and I saw him answer the questions after you left." She swallowed, then kept going. "First of all, he admitted it, of course. And to be honest," – she paused again, rubbing the corner of her dog's ear between her fingers – "it sounded like the hardest thing he'd ever said, like you would if you had to agree to sign your own death warrant. And then, when they asked him more questions and he had to give more answers … he looked like … like you would if you'd committed a murder and then buried the body, as far away as you could, to get it out of sight and out of mind and to try to erase it from ever happening and then the body came back, half rotten, stinking, decayed. He looked like that."

"Do you read a lot, by any chance?" Diane asked. Then, when the girl gave her a confused look, "That description was rather vivid."

The girl blushed a little. "I do actually, most dystopian stuff but – hey! We're getting off topic here. The point is, yes, he had an affair with that Hilda Easterling –"

"Holly Westfall," Diane corrected.

"That one," said the girl. "Yes, he had a fling with her. The fact is … he wished he didn't. We don't know why he did it. We don't know if it was once or several times or when it was. But we do know one thing. He didn't love her. And even if we take away love and put another word beginning with l and ending rhyming with trust which I'm not supposed to say in it's place, that doesn't really work out either. If he wanted girls like her (though I have a few of them at my school and why you'd want anything to do with them I don't know) he could have been involved with plenty of them over the course of the last year. He wouldn't have any reason to be interested in you. And let's just admit it. He's more than interested in you. I mean, you don't just spontaneously kiss someone in an auditorium for no reason! He wants you back and you want him back and, while I can agree with you wanting to punish him (I know I would) I don't see the point in punishing him in a way that is a punishment for you too."

Diane blinked at the girl, feeling like a cat caught in the headlights of a car. "So you're saying I should forgive him?"

The girl seemed to think on this for a moment before saying, "After I saw you in the auditorium you went back home and did the thing I'm not supposed to name, am I right? I'm not even going to let you answer that. And then things have been awkward since then. He's willing to have a crack at rebuilding it. If I were you I'd tell him I was willing to have a try as well. But I'd also make him tell me anything. And then, somewhere along the line, I'd make sure he got salt on his donuts and I'd slash his tyres."

The very idea of her slashing the tyres to Kurt's massive truck in her stiletto heels and pencil skirt made Diane chuckle slightly with laughter.

The girl, taking her laughter as a sign of derision, stared at the floor for a moment before saying, "I don't want you to think that you have to take me seriously. I'm just saying what I think is right."

Diane was quiet for a moment before turning to the girl and saying, "How do you know so much about these sort of things?"

The girl shifted slightly before saying, "My mom and dad broke up when I was eight. I'm thirteen now and they've only just gotten round to the point where they're considering getting back together. Sure, there were times when they were back together, on and off. It was terrible. Me and my brothers got a front seat watching two people dance a long-distance tango round each other. And we were the ones who had to run to our next-door neighbour's house for cover when they decided to get physical. It was like they both wanted to get away from each other but couldn't make themselves."

Another silence stretched out, during which Diane heard her phone ping twice. But she didn't answer it. She was thinking. About Kurt. About her. About them. About everything the girl had said. She made it sound so simple. But then children always did.

"Don't get me wrong," the girl said, "I don't go up to random people in the street and tell them how to sort out their love lives. That's my friend's speciality. It's just … to be totally honest, I've always admired you. When I was little and my dad took me to my first courtcase, you were the defence lawyer. You smashed through them like a battering ram. I never enjoyed anything more in my life. I made a decision then that when I was older I was going to be like you. Ridiculous, I know. I mean, look at me. Jeans, an obsession with the Lord of the Rings and a mouth that insists on getting me detention with Mr Brox of all people. But I always admired you."

"I'm not sure there's much in me to admire," said Diane simply.

The girl smiled. "Oh, there's plenty. You've got class, style and a wit that would make my friend Jamie look like a caveman who'd been smoking opium too long. I'm hardly ever going to be like you, I gave up on that ages ago. But you did inspire me to be a lawyer. It's because of you that I joined debating club and actually found a teacher who likes me. I guess you and your husband also sort of remind me of my mom and dad. The two pairs of you are both totally different, extremely good at doing things that end awkwardly and constantly reminding me that people your age can still have sex. I mean, do they want more of us! They saw what me and my brothers can do and after all these years do they want another one? I mean, every time my mom washes her hair, she blames the grey hairs on us! So why are they so insistent on tempting fate!" She suddenly stopped, realising that she was rambling. "Sorry, I'll shut up now."

But Diane didn't want her to shut up. "So why are you taking the train then?" she asked.

"I'm going to see my friend so we can work on an art project together," she said. "We've got to make a pottery bird and I am going to fail. But Lara's an expert at art so she's going to try to help me. And I'm bringing Pippin so he and her dog, Minnie, can hang out. Minnie's twice his size though, so you kind of have to watch out to make sure she doesn't accidentally break his ribs."

They continued to talk, exchanging political views (theirs were strikingly similar) and sharing anecdotes from their schooldays (she was a lot brighter than she made out) until finally they arrived at the girl's station. Taking her dog's lead, she leapt of the train, saying, "And if we ever meet again, my name's Maryann. Not Teresa. Whatever my parents say, it is not Teresa!"

oo0oo

Diane never thought she would take advice from a thirteen year old girl. But, standing outside Kurt's house, hand hovering over the doorbell, she couldn't help but wonder. The girl had a point. She wanted to rebuild her relationship with Kurt. She missed him and, if what had happened last week was anything to go by, he missed her. If they were going to try to rebuild what they had lost, she might as well be upfront and honest about it. Then at least they would be working together on it, not dancing a 'long distance tango' around each other. She was sure that there was going to be some hurt along the way. There would be things that would be hard. But she didn't intend to back down now. They would come through this. She would make them come through this.

 _And I might just do as she says and give him his own little punishment._

 _Not slashing his tyres though._

Finally, she rang the doorbell. Instantly, the door swung open and he stood in the doorway. "Was wondering how long you were planning on standing there," he said. He was smiling, but he also seemed rather nervous.

Diane stepped in the door with a brisk, "We need to talk." Then, seeing the look of abject terror that came across his face, "Calm down, it's not that kind of talk!"

 **I would just like to say that this is totally AU. This also happens to be how I made my best friend at university. Of course that was on the London Underground. I don't know what you Americans do on trains. This is my first Good Wife/Good Fight fic and since I wrote it at one o'clock in the morning, I think I should get some credit for at least getting the spelling right. Still, let me know what you think! :)**


End file.
